


gleefully stolen

by hotkniife



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man: Far From Home, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Body Worship, Bottom!Quentin, Loss of Virginity, M/M, Power Bottom, Service Top, Underage Sex, top!Peter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-16
Updated: 2019-01-16
Packaged: 2019-10-11 01:48:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,030
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17437583
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hotkniife/pseuds/hotkniife
Summary: Was Quentin a garbage person for wanting to take this sweet, sweet boy’s virginity? Absolutely. Did he feel any guilt about it? None whatsoever.





	gleefully stolen

**Author's Note:**

> Watched the "Far from Home" teaser trailer today and suddenly got all sorts of troubling feelings about the stupid sexy Mysterio we're forced to live with now. Thanks a lot, Gyllenhaal. My characterization of Quentin is based off a single line of dialogue in the teaser, and I'm only assuming certain plot points based on the information given, but hopefully this won't age THAT badly by the time the movie comes out. C'est la vie!
> 
> Obligatory warning for underage sex, so if that squicks you, then don't read. I'm normally not into underage kink myself, but knowing Tom Holland is of legal age makes it less squicky to me? In any event, please remember Mysterio is a _bad_ guy, so his actions here aren't meant to be condoned or framed as _good_. I feel like that's obvious, but ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯
> 
> Without further ado, plz enjoy my power bottom Mysterio deflowering his service top Spidey.

Peter hadn’t embarked on this school trip with the intention of getting roped back into superhero nonsense. For once in his like, he just wanted to be a normal teenager and hang out with his friends — in  _ Europe _ , of all places. Oh, how quickly  _ that _ changed. 

Peter only met Quentin —or as the Italian media called him, “the man of mystery”— a few days ago, but he quickly grew to like the handsome man. But in an admiring, “I want to be him” sort of way… or so he thought. All it took was a few glasses of wine to get Peter loosened up and pliant for Quentin, leading them to his apartment in Rome far,  _ far _ away from his hotel on the other side of town. Even more wine was enjoyed by them there, and… that’s when things started getting  _ weird. _ Quentin couldn’t keep his hands off Peter, and Peter couldn’t  _ not _ let him. Have you  _ seen _ Quentin? Maybe Peter’s admiration of the fledgling superhero wasn’t quite so platonic after all. Peter just needed some coaxing was all.

“You’re so  _ nervous,” _ Quentin chuckles, the sound reverberating in his throat like a bat in bucket. He plays with the top button of Peter’s shirt, popping it ever-so-slightly open, revealing the sinewy muscle underneath. Quentin wanted to mark every last inch of pale flesh on Peter’s nubile form. His mouth takes initiative to make that desire a reality and he dives in closer towards Peter’s neck, but the youngster pulls away before Quentin can make it a reality. 

“Jesus, kid. It’s like you’ve never had sex before.” 

The awkward beat of silence that follows leads Quentin to a sudden realization.

“So you  _ are _ a virgin, huh? Interesting....  _ very _ interesting,” he says, that crooked smirk turning into a predatory grin. Pete was perceptive; he knew what that expression on the older man’s handsome face meant. Being in Quentin’s crosshairs was intimidating, sure, but it didn’t exactly  _ repulse  _ him. Ever since they met, Peter couldn’t help but feel curious about the older man.  _ Excited. _ Quentin slipped him a cocktail of all these news feelings he’d never felt before — not even towards MJ. When May gave Peter “the talk,” none of it covered  _ this. _

“Don’t laugh, okay?” Peter recoils, defending his bruised ego to the best of his ability. It was bad enough that he felt like this insignificant kid compared to Quentin’s boisterousness; he didn’t need the matter of his untapped virginity rubbed right in his face.

“Why would I laugh, baby boy? One’s virginity is very,  _ very _ special… there’s no shame in waiting until you find the right person. The one you wanna give it to. I’m sure that, whoever he or she or they might be, will be the luckiest person in the world. Just make sure you’re  _ sure  _ it’s them. The right person.”

That all sounded well and lovely, but any idiot could tell what Quentin was doing. He fully intended on being the one to deflower the friendly neighborhood Spider-Man, and that wasn’t gonna happen unless Quentin sweet-talked the insecure lad into giving it up like yesterday morning’s refuse. Was Quentin a garbage person for wanting to take this sweet, sweet boy’s virginity? Absolutely. Did he feel any guilt about it? None whatsoever. 

And yet, intelligent as Peter  _ usually  _ was, he fell for those platitudes hook, like, and sinker. “You really think that, Q?” he asks, those doe-eyes fawning over Quentin like the knight in shining armor he desperately pretended to be. Maybe Peter  _ did _ find him — the person he wanted to give his virginity to.  _ Quentin. _ Right here, right now. 

“Absolutely, gorgeous…” 

Their eyes meet yet again, and without verbal agreement, their faces inch closer to one another’s. Peter could’ve sworn Quentin also had some nifty time-altering powers at his disposal, because those brief seconds of longing may as well have lasted centuries. 

Peter thought about everything that led him to this moment: getting bitten by that spider, meeting Mr. Stark, joining the Avengers ( _ kinda _ )... he never would have met such an amazing man like Quentin without them. And now, all he wanted to do was show Quentin how  _ badly _ he wanted him. He just needed to avoid thinking about what May (or Mr. Stark, for that matter) would think about him losing his virginity to this man he barely knew. But after these past few days, Peter truly felt he and Quentin formed a lifelong bond that would never be tarnished. No better time than the present, right? And after all, Peter was  _ literally _ in Rome right now. It felt like the perfect opportunity.

Quentin was truly the evil genius he’d always wanted to be.

“Hey, Q, what you said about finding the  _ right _ person to give my virginity to… what if I already found  _ him?” _ Peter suggests. Quentin doesn’t need to hear another word, and he smashes their mouths together with a ferocious hunger neither had ever experienced before. 

Quentin feels so  _ rough  _ — and spicy, too? Almost like he bathed in Old Spice cologne… or something. Peter didn’t have the language to intellectualize his lust towards Quentin. Why would he? He’d never done  _ anything _ like this before. As first kisses go, this wasn’t bad at all.

On the flipside, Quentin could’ve remember tasting a mouth as sweet as Peter’s, and those lips were softer than feathers on a baby’s bare ass. He couldn’t wait to find out if Peter tasted —and felt— that way  _ all _ over.

Naturally, Quentin takes the lead, pressing Peter onto his back as they made out. His hands return to Peter’s shirt, making quick work of that button-down shirt in an effort to remove it as quickly as humanly possible. He needed Peter naked  _ now. _

“Q,” Peter gasps between kisses, trying (in vain) to slow down Quentin’s roll. It’s not that he  _ didn’t _ want this. He just wanted him to go slower. Even a supervillain like Quentin can take a hint, so he backs off, but not  _ so _ far off as to break their connection. 

“What’s wrong, Pete? Thought this was what you wanted me to do.”

“It is,” Peter replies, eyes shut as Quentin kisses all along his quivering jawline. “Just anxious, I guess…”

“We’ll take this as fast or as slow as you want, okay? No need to rush, baby… we got all night. Fury isn’t coming to get us until the morning. Just let me take care of you, yeah?”

“Okay,” Peter smiles in response, and Quentin can’t help but steal those adorable little lips into yet another searing kiss. Peter’s shirt doesn’t remain on that lithe body much longer, revealing his toned, unblemished physique to the cool Italian air. 

The sight nearly arrested Quentin of breath; how could a boy like Peter look so  _ perfect? _ The thought that nobody had ever tread on this ground before, like the undriven snow… it drove Quentin mad with lust. 

“Fuck, baby… you’re beautiful. Seriously.” 

Peter ate every single one of those words up like candy. “You too,” he says sheepishly, and begins clawing at Quentin’s bulky sweater, signaling that he wanted to see Quentin’s body too. With a light huff, Quentin removes the garment and tosses it aside, revealing just how much of a goddamn  _ Adonis _ Quentin truly was. Thick, bulky muscle, covered in a generous sheet of manly hair everywhere… it took all of Peter’s Spider-Strength to keep himself from coming in his pants right then and there. 

“Jesus…” Peter’s voice is so small and shaky, and it makes Quentin chuckle to himself. “Like what you see, Petey? Why don’t you show me how much you like it, hmm?”

Peter doesn’t need to be told twice, and he sits up to bring his hands to Quentin’s hefty pecs, gently kneading them under his grasp. He could only hope to look this powerful someday. Strong as he obviously was, Peter knew he didn’t  _ appear _ that way. He could hold his own against literally  _ all _ of the Avengers, as that one squabble in Germany proved, but it’s not like anybody would believe it. Peter wanted that body in so, so many different ways.

“Fuck, play with my tits, baby, just like that…” Quentin moans, head thrown back in pleasure. Body worship was one of Quentin’s favorite things to be done to him in bed, and he really came up a winner with Peter, who was simply  _ filled _ with worship towards Quentin. Worship that was mutually met by Quentin. He hoped it wouldn’t be the  _ only _ thing that filled him tonight. 

Peter, in turn, is mildly puzzled by Quentin’s request, and his terminology even more so. Why was Quentin referring to his pecs as  _ tits? _ Better yet, why did the notion of Quentin speaking to him that way sound so  _ hot? _ In any event, Peter wasn’t inclined to deny the older man of what he wanted, so he indulged himself with those gorgeous  _ tits, _ squishing them beneath his fingers, feeling the thick hairs of Quentin’s torso graze against them. 

“ _ Fuck, _ Pete. That’s so good.  _ You’re _ so good… put your mouth on my tits, baby...”

It hadn’t even occured to Pete that he could do that. He tentatively brings his mouth to Quentin’s chest, laving his tongue against the rounded muscles. Feeling Quentin’s chest hair on his tongue was certainly a new feeling, and nearly made Peter gag at first, but he had to remind himself that  _ new _ feelings were  _ bad _ ones. Quentin’s moans were a reassuring reward —and reminder— that “ _ yep, could definitely get used to this.” _

Peter could’ve worshipped his lover’s tits till the morning light, but even with all their time until then, Quentin had other plans. “So here’s the thing,” he begins, bringing Peter’s head upwards to match his. “I’m a man of very  _ specific _ tastes, Pete. I know what I like. I know what I  _ want _ .”

“What  _ do _ you want…?”

Quentin’s hand reaches down to Peter’s clothed crotch, where he’s met with a palpable erection in his grasp. “I want you to fuck me. Deep.  _ Hard.” _

The revelation is nothing short of a shock to Peter’s system. Inexperienced as he was, he fully expected Quentin to be the one penetrating  _ him.  _ That was how it worked, right? The younger guy was the bottom by default. At least, that how it was in all the porn he watched online…

“You… you want  _ me _ to fuck  _ you?” _

Quentin lets out a hearty belly laugh, and kisses him in response. “Hell yeah, Petey. I want this big cock of yours tearing me up. Do you want that, too?”

Before he could verbalize his response, Peter released his head was already nodding profusely. God, he must’ve looked like such an overeager virgin. “Yes. Uh…  _ yes. _ Please.”

Their mouths meet again, and then Quentin pushes Peter flat on his back once again. “You felt pretty hard there, but I gotta make sure you’re stiff enough to stick it inside me, first…” Peter didn’t have to ask what Quentin meant by that. Within seconds, his pants and underwear were gone, leaving him fully nude as he came into this world. Quentin’s mouth practically watered at the sight of Pete’s surprising girth. It was _long._ _Thick._ He could’ve wait to get that thing in his maw. 

Quentin kisses a trail down Peter’s slender torso, finally arriving at the crotch quicker than reason. Peter tries to watch the proceedings as best as he can from his vantage point without breaking his neck. Wouldn’t be the  _ worst  _ way to die. 

Luckily, his cock disappears inside Quentin’s mouth before he could languish into an existential despair, those chiseled cheeks hollowing around Peter’s member so wantonly. Where did Quentin learn to suck cock like  _ this? _ Peter wondered if he’d ever get so good at doing the same to Quentin himself. He tried practicing on a banana once, but May almost caught him before he could swallow that thing halfway down his throat. To this day, neither Parker talked about that awkward time she discovered a broken banana beside him on his bedroom floor.

But  _ Jesus, _ Quentin takes every last inch down like it’s nothing. Peter’s almost certain Quentin can deep throat him if he wanted to. Maybe some other time, when he’s not concerned about blasting his load so quickly into their lovemaking that he could accidentally choke Q to death. He just wanted this first time to  _ not _ end fatally. 

Likewise, Quentin can barely keep himself from cackling around Peter’s cock, noticing how antsy he’s acting about all this sex stuff. He just wanted to set Peter straight and make him realize that this  _ wasn’t _ the fancy science crap he was used to at school. There was nothing more natural than  _ fucking. _

Deciding Peter couldn’t get harder, he pulls off the cock with a sinful  _ pop, _ dragging his lips against the head until they’re separated. “We’re not done yet,” Quentin informs, kissing his way back up to Peter’s mouth. “Now it’s  _ your _ turn to prepare me, Petey.” Without further preamble, Quentin turns around and gets on all fours, presenting his furry, shapely ass to his young lover. If Peter wasn’t already fully erect, he certainly was  _ now. _

“C’mon, what are you waiting for? Get this ass nice and ready for you.” 

Quentin’s words go straight to Peter’s head —and his dick— compelling him grab that ass, feeling the thick glutes in his hands. Kinda like Quentin’s chest, but a little different. No matter which part of Q’s body he touches, Peter hopes it won’t be the last time. “What do I, uh, do with this? What do you want me to do?”

Quentin looks over his shoulder and catches Peter’s sight, smiling. “Whatever feels natural, Petey. You wanna finger me open? Lick my hole? It’s up to you. Don’t overthink it.”

Remembering how  _ different _ licking Quentin’s chest felt, he figured doing the same to his ass shouldn’t have been  _ that _ different, so he brings his mouth level to Quentin’s crack, and…

“ _ Oh!” _ Quentin gasps upon contact, almost as though he wasn’t expecting Peter to go there  _ that _ way. “Fuck, eat my ass, Pete… get it nice and wet for your cock.”

Quentin’s encouragement sends shivers down Pete’s spine, fueling his desire to do exactly what his older lover wants. Quentin could probably lead Peter off a bridge with his silver tongue… and at this point, Peter would probably let him. 

Speaking of tongues… Quentin couldn’t help but think Peter was acclimating to this stuff quite well for someone of his inexperience. “Hurry up, baby… gonna blow before I get to feel that cock inside me. I’m ready.  _ Fuck me.” _

Scrambling to meet Quentin’s ravenous desire, it only just dawns on Peter that they don’t actually have condoms — or lube for that matter. “Um, we don’t have condoms, Q…”

Quentin presses his ass against Peter’s cock, slotting the piece between his fatty ass cheeks, virtually ignoring the younger man’s concern. “What about it? You’re a virgin, and I’m clear to go without one… stop being so  _ scared _ of sex, baby. Let yourself feel good…”

Peter really should know better than to fuck a near-stranger without protection. He and May talked about this many, many times. And yet… when Peter finally slicks himself up with spit and presses the tip of his cock to Quentin’s furrowed entrance, pushing gently inside… all of that consternation goes away. Immediately.

“ _ Fuuuck!” _ is a sentiment both exclaim mutually, at almost  _ exactly _ the same moment. Quentin is so  _ tight,  _ and Peter is so  _ big. _ It’s a perfect clash of extremes that will undoubtedly lead both parties to ruin sooner than later — but hopefully not before they get to chase their orgasms to completion. 

“That’s it, baby, nice and slow… work it up,” Quentin moans out, instructing Peter’s pace. “Slow and steady wins the race, remember that quote?” Of course Peter remembers. He was in kindergarten, like,  _ yesterday. _ But those guiding words mean a lot to the lad, and he takes them in stride as he, well,  _ strides _ in and out of Quentin’s hungry hole.

They start building a nice, steady rhythm before long, with Peter’s hands clasped tightly as Quentin’s sides, watching in awe as the older man uses Peter like a sex toy, fucking himself on and off of that prime piece of meat. Fury  _ definitely  _ wouldn’t approve of this transgression.

“Q, you feel so  _ good…” _ Peter whines as he begins picking up the speed and intensity of his thrusts, which soon cause Quentin to start  _ growling _ like the beast he truly was. With those throaty roars and all that body hair, Quentin wouldn’t have been out of place in a zoo, that was for sure. 

Eventually the friction between them becomes too much to bear, which results in Quentin warning Pete of his impending orgasm. “Petey, you’re gonna make me fuckin’ come, goddamn…” he says, his voice thoroughly fucked out by this young buck.  _ His _ buck. After tonight, Peter would never seek out another man for mutual pleasure, and the thought of him  _ possessing _ such a sterling boy like Pete —so big and thick inside him— is what finally does it, and he blasts his load onto the mattress below, loudly exclaiming on each step of the way down. “Pete!  _ Pete!” _

Peter isn’t far behind, and try as he might, he just can’t contain his own eruption, and fills Quentin to the brim with hot, sticky seed, threatening to trickle down the older man’s coarse, furry thighs his sweaty chest falls atop Quentin’s defined back, his mouth hanging over those toned shoulders as each man comes down from their highs. 

They remain like this for a few moments, before Peter pulls out and collapses onto his front beside Quentin. “Goddamn, Q,” he gasps, eliciting a smirk from the other. 

“ _ Goddamn _ is right, Petey,” Quentin agrees, reaching over to press their tired mouths against one another’s, Quentin pulling the young man into a lazy embrace. “So, baby boy, how was your first time? Everything you ever wanted?”

Peter giggles in response, blissfully unaware of the innocence gleefully stolen from him by a veritable supervillain with the face of a marquee hero. What felt like a victory to the friendly neighborhood Spider-Man was truly anything but.


End file.
